Nothing Left To Do
by MoonytheMarauder1
Summary: Regulus Black is supposed to be dead, but he's not. Getting him out of the hands of the Death Eaters is going to come at a heavy price, though. Voldemort Wins!au. Soulmate!au. JamesRegulus, past JamesLily, RemusSirius, HarryDraco. For Bex.


**A/N: Hey y'all! This was written for Bex. :) Hopefully it's not too much of a mess; the plot flew away from me. Whoops.**

**RegulusJames**

**RemusSirius**

**HarryDraco**

**Voldemort wins!au**

**Soulmate!au **

**Sharing a bed**

**Nightmares**

**Word Count: 7900**

**WARNINGS: Murder, character death, language, torture, violence**

**Enjoy!**

_Regulus gasped desperately for air, struggling to get in the lungfuls he needed. His eyes, silver in the dim lighting of the cave, fixated on the lake before him, one thought consuming all of his being: _water.

_On his hands and knees, Regulus struggled to the lake's edge, gasping and panting through his agony. Fragments of memory were flinging themselves to the front of his consciousness, and the desire to drown them out was overwhelming. _

_He reached the water's edge. There was a deeply buried instinct that he shouldn't drink, but it was a fleeting concern. Regulus gathered up his sweaty dark locks in one hand and lowered his mouth to the surface of the lake. _

_He was three gulps in when it happened. _

_A pale, bloated hand shot out of the water and seized Regulus' jaw, pulling him beneath the surface of the lake. Regulus choked as water shot into his nose and mouth, and he flailed desperately as he attempted to free himself from the body's—Inferius', some dim part of Regulus recognized—grip. But it was no use; it was holding on with an ungodly strength. _

_Regulus' movements slowed as he ran out of oxygen—_

_But then he was breathing. Someone was pulling him back onto the shore, and Regulus, coughing up water, managed to catch a glimpse of a small figure with their arms extended, bright lights emitting from their fingertips. _

"_Kreacher," Regulus croaked. His eyes were wide, almost uncomprehending, as the elf worked his magic, driving the Inferi away. The heads, terrifying with their sunken, milky white eyes, bobbed above the surface, but didn't come any closer. _

_Then Kreacher was at his side, the locket that had caused all their trouble hanging around his neck. "I is sorry, Mater Regulus," he kept muttering. "Kreacher is apologizing for leaving master alone…"_

"_Home," Regulus managed to choke out. Darkness threatened to pull him under. "Not Grimmauld… home."_

_After a moment, the old elf nodded his head. "Kreacher thinks he is understanding."_

_The elf's gnarled hands gripped Regulus' drenched upper arm, and the next thing he knew, Regulus was being whisked away through time and space. _

* * *

_James knew that something was wrong. He was happily playing with Harry, enjoying his son's excited giggles as puff after puff of colorful smoke left his wand, but there was a nagging feeling at the back of James' skull that something was about to go incredibly wrong. _

_He took a deep breath to steady himself. Peter, and Peter alone, held their address. Nothing could go wrong. _

_But then it did._

_James felt his blood run cold as Lily—his beautiful, brave Lily—grabbed his arm urgently. Her green eyes were fixed on the window, and James followed her gaze to see a figure approaching the door. _

"_Take Harry and run." He hadn't meant to say the words; they'd just come tumbling out of his mouth. He sucked a breath in, then repeated, "Lily, take Harry and run!"_

_He wasn't shouting—he couldn't scare Harry. But his voice was quiet enough that it conveyed his terror better than any scream could. _

_Lily looked at him, and, in one fluid motion, plucked up their son and thrust him into James' very surprised arms. "You go," she whispered. "Keep him safe."_

_He couldn't breathe. "Lily—"_

_She was halfway out of the sitting room now, and she glanced over her shoulder to give him one last smile. _

_He could see through it, though. She was terrified. _

"_I've always been the better duelist," she whispered. She looked at Harry, who seemed too stunned to react in any way. Her eyes filled with tears. "Mummy loves you," she gasped, her words running together as she tried to get them out. She locked eyes with James. "I love you—go!"_

_James stumbled backwards, some parental instinct fighting to get his son away from the danger when all he wanted was to rush to the woman he loved. "I love you, too," he whispered. _

_The lock clicked, and then James' feet were moving. He caught one last glimpse of fiery red hair before Lily was on the Dark Lord, her wand raised in defiance. James stifled a sob as he ran out the back door, his body getting him past the anti-Apparition point while his heart screamed for his wife. _

_Without much conscious thought, James passed the wards around their little cottage. He put a protective hand on the back of Harry's head, pressing the boy's face into his shoulder, then Apparated with a loud _crack_. _

_He left his heart behind._

* * *

_Fifteen years later_

"Right, so Harry's got a boyfriend and I'm wondering how long each of you has been hiding the fact from me."

James did his best to glare at his two friends—his sixteen-year-old kid was _dating_, for Merlin's sake, and they hadn't thought to tell him—but the truth was, it was difficult for James to stay mad at them these days.

Sirius squawked, snapping to attention when he heard James' words. "Dating? Dating who?"

Remus, from his seat at the kitchen table, didn't look up from the book he was reading as he took a sip from his tea. "One month, and Draco Malfoy."

James raised his brows as Sirius spluttered. "A month?"

Remus glanced up then, his amber eyes meeting James' hazel. "He said he wanted to tell you in his own time, and I respected his wishes."

James couldn't really argue with that—Harry had a right to privacy—but he wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that it had taken his son a month to come up with the courage to confess this to him… and that he was more comfortable to tell Remus.

But the other man seemed to read his thoughts. "I walked in on them snogging, James. It's not like he trusts me any more than you."

"Oh." James pulled out a chair and sat down, feeling a bit better. "That's okay, then."

"_Draco Malfoy?_" Sirius seemed to finally find his voice. Both Remus and James fixed him with a glare.

"You can't just lump him in with his father, Sirius," Remus said, a bit sharply. "And don't you dare give him a hard time about it. None of your overprotective nonsense."

Sirius slowly lifted his hands in a defensive gesture. "I wasn't planning on doing anything!"

Remus and James both shot him a look of disbelief, but any further conversation was thwarted by Bill Weasley rushing into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place.

"Sirius," he said urgently, "Moody wants to speak with you. Whatever it is, it's important."

James frowned sharply, instantly nervous. He shared a look with Remus as Sirius walked out the door; normally if something was wrong, the entire Order was alerted.

"What do you think that's about?" James murmured as soon as Sirius was out of the room.

Remus' brow was furrowed. "I'm not sure," he said slowly. "I suppose all we can do is wait."

James swallowed thickly; he remembered the last time someone had said those words, and it hadn't ended well for his family. Still, whatever the problem was, it couldn't be as dire as that. Nothing ever could.

"You're thinking about her again," Remus said. A long-standing grief tinged his voice, and James remembered that Remus and Lily had been as close as brother and sister. "Prongs, talk to me. What's the matter?"

James leaned back in his chair and regarded Remus carefully. "How come you always see right through me?"

"I have eyes; I use them. Now, stop stalling and answer me."

Damn. James ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly out of his nose. He debated lying to Remus for a second—not that he'd be fooled, but he'd respect James' privacy—but he'd grown rather tired of secrets, even his own. So he pulled up the sleeve of his robes, revealing the black soulmark hidden beneath. Where there had once been a lily, a crown now lay.

Remus' brows shot up. "Ah."

"It showed up last week," James said, his voice shaking. He'd been trying for causal; he hadn't succeeded. "I don't… I don't know how to handle this. I still love her, Remus."

"You don't have to ever stop loving her," Remus soothed, rubbing James' shoulder. "But that doesn't mean you can't love someone else, too."

James looked away. The truth in those words was bittersweet; they seemed hopeful, but to love another person after he'd loved Lily for so long… how could he do that?

He wasn't good at letting go of people, though he knew that Lily would want him to be happy.

Remus stood, the sound of the chair scraping across the tile jarring James out of his thoughts. "I'm going to go see if I can find the Malfoys—they've been a bit shell-shocked since escaping here. I'll see if I can coax them downstairs."

James lifted a brow. He didn't entirely trust the Malfoys, save for Draco, for whom his parents seemed to have defected. The three had run into one of the Order's patrols months back, bleeding and shaking and looking generally terrified. Narcissa had been able to communicate their message: information for protection. They'd delivered their end of the bargain, so the Order had done the same.

Harry and Draco, it seemed, had gotten on better terms very quickly. James supposed he wasn't so surprised; Lily had hated him for years before they'd begun dating. Lucius and Narcissa, though, had been quiet and reserved since their arrival.

But Remus knew of his friend's distrust, so James didn't argue with him. Besides, Remus was capable of taking care of himself. "Good luck, then."

Remus nodded his acknowledgement and walked towards the door, leaving James alone.

* * *

Regulus licked his lips, which were dried and cracked from dehydration. Inwardly, he cursed himself for being so careless; he wasn't sure how long ago he'd been captured, but his quest to find and destroy the Horcruxes had been put on hold.

Luckily, Kreacher had gotten away with Hufflepuff's cup, so there was a chance the Horcrux would still be destroyed. The other good news was that Regulus suspected the Dark Lord had no idea about his Horcrux hunt, that he assumed Regulus was just a deserter and would treat him as such.

Everything else… was not good news.

The Dark Lord never did anything carelessly. There was symbolism in everything he did, which led Regulus to believe a total of seven Horcruxes had been created—or attempted. Regulus knew about the prophecy regarding the Dark Lord, and he'd seen the papers detailing the failed attack on the Potters. He could put the pieces together.

So there were six out there, and he'd destroyed four. The locket, the ring, the diadem… and he'd been captured while killing Nagini, though hopefully that had been seen as some petty revenge. Kreacher would take care of the cup…

But there was one more out there, and Regulus didn't even know how to find out what it was.

He'd spent years collecting information and unraveling the Dark Lord's past, but he hadn't been able to obtain any memories from the man's school days. The answer was in there, Regulus was sure.

He just had to figure out a way to escape this place.

Then, above him, a door opened. Regulus heard the _click, clack_ as his dear cousin descended the stone steps into the basement. A few seconds later, her black boots came into view when she stopped before him.

"Dear, sweet Regulus," she purred. "It's been so long."

Regulus didn't raise his head, but he did bare his teeth. "I can't say it's a pleasure, Bella."

Her fingers were on his face, then, gripping his chin and raising it roughly. He grunted in pain and twisted against his bonds; he knew Bellatrix's reputation. She leaned in close, a manic gleam in her black eyes.

"You had so much potential," she whispered, her eyes roaming about his face. "What happened?"

Regulus glared at her with all the hatred and defiance he could muster, but he couldn't pretend that he wasn't squirming slightly in her grasp. Sirius had always been the brave one. "There are some prices too high even for me to pay," he spat out, ignoring the rasping of his voice.

Bellatrix's nails cut into his skin. "You weren't paying the price."

Regulus lifted his grey eyes until he was staring straight at his older cousin. "Yes," he gasped, "I was."

Bellatrix's lips thinned, and she brought her lips close to Regulus' ear. "I'm only going to ask you this once, cousin. _Where is Narcissa?_"

Biting back his surprise, Regulus stared at Bellatrix's shoulder, her dark purple robes barely visible between the strands of her hair. "I don't know what you mean," he said honestly.

"Do not lie to me," she hissed. "I know that she must have gone looking for you. I don't know what you said to convince her to leave, but _I want her back_."

Regulus laughed hollowly. "I'm not helping you lock her back in a cage."

With a shout of fury, Bellatrix released him and stood, her eyes flashing. From the folds of her robe, she pulled out her wand.

"Fine." She was breathing heavily, and the expression on her face left no doubt in Regulus' mind that she was every bit as mad as people said. "Fine. Just remember that it didn't have to be this way, _cousin_."

She raised her wand; Regulus braced himself.

"_Crucio!"_

Regulus screamed as the curse hit him, agony ripping through his body. He twisted and arched his back, trying desperately to relieve some of the pain, but it was no use. His blood had turned to fire, and it was scorching his flesh from the inside out—

He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he lost consciousness.

* * *

Draco frowned when he saw that Harry was still awake.

"You do realize that the human body actually _needs_ sleep, right?"

Harry glanced up from what looked to be a solitary game of Exploding Snap, a candle his only light. "Yeah, I'll do that in a bit."

"So you've said all week." Draco closed the door of Harry's bedroom and walked over to the other boy. He watched Harry mess around with the cards for a minute before shaking his head. "You're only stalling. Go to bed; I can't fall asleep when you're making such a racket in the next room."

Harry glanced guiltily at him. "Sorry. I'll stop playing."

Draco surveyed him carefully. "I'm not an idiot, Potter," he said eventually. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

Harry's green eyes met Draco's with some level of surprise. "It's not anything you need to worry about."

The rejection stung. Draco would be the first to admit that their relationship had taken quite a drastic turn and that they were far from the level of trust he wanted to be at, but they'd made _progress_. Draco was no longer the boy who blindly followed his parents; he'd seen things in the war, things Harry had seen a long time ago.

But for once, Draco swallowed his pride. "If I wasn't sleeping, would you want to know why?"

Harry looked at him warily. "I know what you're doing," he said.

"Is it working?"

"I suppose this time it can." Harry sighed and ran a hand through his untidy dark hair, messing it up further. "I've been having nightmares," he admitted. "It's easier to exhaust myself than it is to have to dwell on them."

Draco looked towards Harry's bed and thought _to hell with it._ He kicked off his shoes and socks and climbed onto the mattress; he wasn't bold enough to take off any more clothing yet.

"Get in, Potter. They say company helps."

Harry was gaping at him, and any embarrassment Draco was feeling was worth that expression. He smirked at the black-haired boy. "Don't tell me you're shy."

Harry got to his feet, still stunned but determined. "You wish," he managed to choke out.

But Harry was climbing into bed, and—perhaps to one up Draco—settled himself against Draco, so his back was pressed against the blond's chest. Draco felt a blush tinge his cheeks and was beyond grateful that Harry couldn't see it.

"This okay?" Harry murmured sleepily.

"Fine." Draco was proud that he kept his voice steady.

"Mmm. G'night."

Draco swallowed. "Good night."

They both fell asleep soon after. A few hours of peace followed but then Draco was woken by an elbow in his side. He groaned and sat up, blinking disorientedly and trying to figure out why the room looked different. The legs tangled with his own were a good reminder.

Harry's face was twisted with distress, and Draco grabbed the Gryffindor's shoulder and shook it. "Potter. Potter. _Harry_. Wake up."

Harry's face, which looked bare without his glasses, burrowed into the pillows; his body was still wracked with tremors. Draco frowned and tried to make out his mumbling, but the pillow muffled it. "Harry," he tried again. "Listen, it's just a dream. It's not real." He gripped Harry's arm, beginning to get worried. "You can feel me, Harry. I'm real. Wake up."

Miraculously, he did.

Green eyes flew open, and Draco quickly leaned out of the way as Harry shot up into a sitting position. "What—where—"

"You're in your room," Draco said firmly. "You're safe."

Harry looked at him, stricken, and Draco realized that he was mortified at having been caught at such a vulnerable moment. He didn't know what he could say to fix that, so he decided not to try.

"You can go back to sleep now, Potter." He laid back against the pillows to demonstrate. Harry, though, stayed upright and tense.

"Potter?"

"I didn't want you to see that." He dragged his hands through his hair. "Damn it. I really didn't."

Draco looked at him warily. "I might have used that against you when we were in school, but… you can't honestly think that you're the only one who's afraid."

His eyes flickered over to Draco. "Are you?" he challenged.

Draco lifted his chin. "I left the Dark Lord's ranks, Potter. I'm bloody terrified."

A moment of silence passed, and then Harry lowered himself back down so he was facing Draco. "I suppose I should be glad I'm not the only one."

Draco let his eyes fall shut. "You aren't obligated to feel anything. Can you go back to sleep?"

Suddenly, arms wrapped around Draco and tugged him closer. "Someday you might thank me for this," Harry murmured into Draco's neck. Whether or not he could feel the tension in Draco's body remained a mystery to the Slytherin, but one thing was for certain: Draco didn't hate the contact.

Hesitantly, Draco wrapped his arms around the other boy.

After a few minutes of silence, Draco thought Harry was asleep. But then his voice broke the quiet.

"I don't blame you for taking the Mark, you know. I think sometimes you think that I do."

Draco's breath caught in his throat. "You should blame me," he said stiffly. "It's my fault, I chose it."

He felt Harry shrug. "It wasn't much of a choice, though, was it?" A beat passed, and then Harry added bitterly, "I really hate that man."

It didn't take a genius to realize he was referring to Voldemort. Draco shuddered. "I think everyone does." He closed his eyes and pressed his face against Harry's hair, liking the way Harry's black locks tickled his nose. "It will be a messy death if he catches the Order. Worth your nightmares." He didn't mention that he'd been dreaming of his own horrible demise since betraying the Dark Lord.

Harry snorted against his chest, but his voice lacked emotion when he spoke. "Merlin, you're a little ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

Draco bit his lip. "Well, you didn't bring me along for my charming personality, did you?"

Harry lifted his arm, where the black silhouette of a willow tree could be seen on his wrist. "This is why I brought you along at first," Harry admitted. "When I saw that we were soulmates. But now… it would've been for more than that."

Draco remembered that night. He and his parents had been beyond scared, and seeing Harry had been both a relief and an embarrassment. Their matching soulmarks had been even more of a surprise, and he remembered his mother whispering about it to his father the first night. _The willow tree—balance, stability, standing strong in the face of challenges… we should have known._

It'd been an unexpected development, but Draco wouldn't change it for anything.

Before he could find the words to respond, though, Harry's snores filled the room. Draco joined him not long after.

* * *

When James awoke the next morning, he went, like he always did, to check on Harry. It was a habit he'd developed after Lily's death, and he hadn't quite been able to break it. The simple routine kept his nightmares at bay, which was a small miracle.

Today, though, there were two figures in the bed.

James wasn't entirely sure what to make of the fact that another boy was in his son's bed, but since they were both clothed, he decided to tackle the problem later. This really _wouldn't_ be a good talk to fumble through.

Rubbed the wrong way, James made his way into the kitchen grumpily. He made himself coffee and felt a bit better for it, but he couldn't quite get the image of Harry and Draco out of his head. Harry was nearly an adult, yes, and he and his boyfriend hadn't appeared to have done anything more than sleep in the same bed, but… Sweet Godric, he didn't know how to react to this.

Thankfully, Remus walked in then. James tactfully ignored the fact that his friend was wearing Sirius' sleepwear.

"Wonderful, I need your help with parenting." James turned his hazel eyes on his friend. "How mad should I be if Harry and Draco slept together?"

Remus choked on his tea. "They _what_?"

James backpedaled immediately. "I meant—in the same bed, Moony, not _that!_"

Remus closed his eyes and sank into a chair. "Merlin's beard." He was clutching his tea tightly in his scarred hands. "Prongs, do not… do not do that to me again."

"I'm sorry!" James flapped his hands about, feeling mildly horrified. "I just… I don't know what to do. Is it wrong?"

Remus only shrugged, for once looking just as clueless as James. "Sirius and I slept in the same bed together at Hogwarts. For nightmares and things."

James set down his coffee. "You don't think Harry's having nightmares, do you?"

Remus looked down at the oversized T-shirt, which advertized an old Bowie concert that James could remember attending. "I don't know, Prongs. I think they both are." He raised his amber eyes to look at James critically. "I think we all are."

He wasn't wrong. James rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awfully exposed as Remus waited for him to crack. Finally, he sighed. "Okay, fine. I've been dreaming about Halloween. I always do around this time of year."

Remus seemed to age ten years. "I know. I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do…"

James reached over to ruffle his hair fondly, despite the fact that they were nearing forty. "Don't worry, mate. I can deal with a dream."

"You can, maybe, but _I_ can't."

James and Remus both looked over to see Sirius entering the kitchen, Harry and Draco in tow. Sirius claimed the empty seat beside Remus and gave the werewolf a sloppy kiss on the cheek before continuing the conversation. "You haven't heard the news yet, have you? I haven't told Remus, either… but it kept me up all night." Sirius' mouth was set in a thin line, his expression grim.

James recalled the previous morning, and how Sirius had disappeared in his room for the rest of the day. Evidently, Remus hadn't been able to get to the bottom of the situation. He leaned forwards and noticed Remus, Harry, and Draco doing the same. "What happened, Padfoot?"

Sirius laced his fingers through his husband's. "Snape says… he says Regulus is alive and is being held captive for treason." Sirius lifted his gaze to look at James, his face tormented. "He's been _alive_, James. All these years, and I—" Sirius stopped himself and tightened his grip on Remus' hand.

No one made a sound. James leaned back against his chair, unsure exactly what he was supposed to say. Regulus had been dead—was supposed to have been dead—for fifteen years. Sirius had mourned him for _fifteen years_.

Remus was murmuring something to his lover. James caught _not your fault_ and _you couldn't have known._ And that was all well and good, but now Regulus was the Order's business. More specifically, they now had to figure out why the Death Eaters would care about a deserter whose information, as far as anyone knew, was fifteen years old.

Something more had to be going on.

Harry stepped forwards and hugged his godfather tightly. "It's—it's okay, Sirius. We're going to get him, aren't we Dad?"

James shook himself from his thoughts. "We're going to do our best," he said decidedly. He turned to his friend. "That's what Moody wanted to speak to you about yesterday, wasn't it? A rescue mission?"

Sirius hesitated. "He mentioned it, yeah. But Prongs, this… this is going to be really dangerous."

James was about to protest that that had never stopped them before, but he noticed Sirius' grey eyes flickering between himself and Harry. And James realized that those high-risk days were over.

Hogwarts and the Ministry were the only safe places left; Order patrols out in the city were dangerous enough. Going on a suicide mission was unforgivably irresponsible as a parent. As much as he wanted to be there for his friends, his son was always his priority.

"I'll be sitting this one out, then," he said quietly. A cold lump of terror settled in his throat as he watched Remus and Sirius look grimly at each other—they, without a doubt, would be a part of the mission.

James wondered if it wasn't too early for a drink.

A few hours and an official Order meeting later, it was decided. Remus, Sirius, Snape, and Alastor Moody would be going in; a smaller party would be able to move more quickly than a larger one. Lucius and Narcissa had offered relevant information regarding the Death Eaters' whereabouts and had a good memory of the layout of the building. James would be watching the kids—and worrying.

He wasn't looking forward to it, but if there was even a chance they could get Regulus back, they needed to take it. It wasn't just that he might have information they could use—he was treasured by Sirius, though their relationship was complicated. James couldn't deny his friend a chance to reunite with a loved one… he knew the pain all too well.

When it was time for the team to depart, James gripped both of his friends in a tight embrace. "You'd both better come back," he whispered into their ears. "I kind of need you here."

Sirius did his best to laugh. "We know you can't get on without us. Really though, James… we'll do what we can."

It wasn't much of a promise, but it was all they could give. James recognized that.

Remus squeezed his shoulder. "Sirius is right." His face was drawn, but he was standing just as tall as he always had. "It's just another battle, James. Just another day."

It wasn't, but he appreciated Remus' attempt to comfort him.

He stepped back and allowed Harry to say goodbye to his honorary uncles, tactfully failing to mention the tears in the boy's eyes. He wished there was a way to hide the gravity of the situation from his son, but Harry was nearly an adult. Keeping the truth from him wouldn't do him any favors.

James hugged his friends once more before they were out the door. "Stay safe," he whispered.

They only smiled sadly at him before Apparating away.

James stared at the spot where they'd disappeared for several minutes afterwards, feeling as though the world had burdened him with all its worries. He let himself be scared for a minute—to let the terror overwhelm him just for a second—and then he turned to Draco and Harry, who were each too pale. James had to hold it together for them.

"Come on, boys," he said, voice soft. "Into the kitchen."

They followed him robotically, like sheep would a shepherd. He motioned for them to sit at the table, then grabbed three glasses and a bottle of firewhiskey. He poured a finger of the amber liquid in each and pushed two of the glasses towards Harry and Draco.

"If you want it," he murmured. He didn't mind Harry having a taste, and Draco was already of age.

All three of them drank.

* * *

Sirius came back several hours later, supporting an unconscious Regulus with the help of Moody.

Remus was not with them.

* * *

After fifteen years with only a house-elf for company, Regulus really didn't do well with human emotions. So when he woke up in his childhood home to see his brother staring down at him with anguish, he really didn't know how to react.

Sirius had taken the lead. He grabbed Regulus, shouted at him for disappearing, then sobbed brokenly into his little brother's shoulder. Regulus tried to keep his own tears back, to no avail.

"Reg," Sirius kept muttering. "Reg, Reg, Reg."

Regulus had never cared for the nickname, but he found himself cherishing it now. He hadn't let himself hope to see Sirius ever again, much less be welcomed by him; this was beyond his wildest imaginings.

"I'm sorry," Regulus whispered. "I'm so, so sorry."

Sirius pulled away at that, and Regulus missed his warmth. "You need to tell me everything, Reg. You're with the Order now. You're safe."

Regulus nodded reluctantly. He didn't owe anything to the Order, but to Sirius… it would take lifetimes to make up for the way he'd treated Sirius. Guilt wasn't penance enough. "I will," he promised. "I swear I will, Sirius."

The older Black nodded, apparently satisfied. Regulus gazed at him for a moment, his brain still waking up. It took Regulus several seconds to remember Kreacher.

"Shit." He struggled to sit up, moving so quickly that he startled Sirius. "Shit, I nearly forgot. I need to call—"

"You don't need to call anyone," Sirius cut in firmly. He pushed Regulus back against the pillows. "Reg, you were cut up and bleeding—who knows how many _crucios_ Bellatrix cast on you… you're not in any condition to do anything right now."

"This is important, Sirius," Regulus stressed. "It's _urgent_."

"You need to take care of yourself—"

"I'm just calling Kreacher—"

"Then let me do it!"

Regulus shook his head firmly. Every Horcrux had an aura of Dark magic around it—Merlin knew how Sirius would react to _that._ "You won't understand until I explain. And besides, I ordered him to ignore your orders a long time ago."

That gave Sirius pause, but he still glared at his brother. "He'll come to me if he knows you're incapacitated."

Regulus lifted a bandaged hand to clutch at his hair; it must have been cleaned, because it was much softer than it had been while the Dark Lord was holding him. "I'm not incapacitated," he ground out.

"Damn it, Regulus." Sirius' eyes were glowing with a rage Regulus hadn't seen before. "You need to rest, because I am _not_ losing you, too." His voice broke.

And it was then that Regulus remembered how he'd been freed.

He lowered his gaze, ashamed of himself. The Horcruxes were important, yes, but Sirius was hurting. Regulus knew Remus Lupin from school; he'd been a highly intelligent individual. No doubt the entire Order would feel his absence.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

Sirius closed his eyes and didn't respond for a while. "Just sleep," he said at last.

Regulus didn't argue.

* * *

_The door to the basement opened, the light from the hallway flooding in. Regulus didn't move, didn't make a sound. If Bellatrix was back, she wouldn't get the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. _

_None of the Dark Lord's interrogators had been able to get a whisper out of Regulus. They'd used the Cruciatus Curse, Legilimency, and other methods, all of which proved ineffective. Regulus withstood them all. Snape's mind probing, though, hadn't been up to its usual standard—information that Regulus stored carefully away. It wouldn't do to expose a potential ally to his former comrades. _

_But the people descending the stairs were not Death Eaters. _

"_Regulus. Merlin, it's you."_

_With difficulty, Regulus raised his head. His heart was pounding—he recognized that voice. He hadn't heard it in nearly twenty years, but it was impossible to forget. "S… Sirius?"_

_Pale hands cradled his face, so much gentler than Bellatrix's. Regulus managed to focus his blurry vision on the figure in front of him, and sure enough it was his brother. _

"_We're getting you out of here," Sirius promised. "Fuck, what have they done to you? We're getting you out."_

_Sirius seemed almost incoherent, which was laughable to Regulus; his brother always knew exactly what to say and when to say it. But when Regulus started wheezing out a laugh, Sirius looked so alarmed that the ex-Death Eater wondered whether those _crucio_s had done more damage than he'd thought. _

_Someone—not Sirius—was working quickly at the bindings on Regulus' wrists and ankles while a third person stood watch by the door. Sirius kept muttering to him, trying to calm him, most likely. When minutes went by without consequence, Regulus dared to hope that freedom was attainable. _

"_How—" Regulus coughed. "How did you get through the door?" He knew it was heavily warded._

"_Remus," Sirius answered simply. He always seemed able to talk about this soulmate. "Some quick wandwork, and it was open. Moody and I took care of the guards stationed there, though."_

_Regulus raised a brow, impressed. "Clever," he rasped. _

_Sirius beamed. "Beautiful _and _brilliant, I know."_

_There it was—the joking Sirius so often used as a coping mechanism. Regulus had been hoping to bring it out, and with it some sense of normalcy. "He's too good for you," he said, attempting a joke of his own._

_Sirius seemed surprised by it—Regulus didn't tease—but he took it in stride. "Don't tell him that."_

_Suddenly, Regulus' hands and feet were free; he straightened up and did his best to stretch the abused muscles. Remus came into view, amusement dancing in his eyes. _

"_I'm flattered, boys," he said softly, "but we need to get going." He paused a second, then added, "Glad to see you, Regulus."_

_Regulus did his best to smile, though the blood might have made that a scary sight._

_Wasting no time, Sirius and Remus both took one of his arms and pulled him to his feet. The pain from that alone was almost enough to pull him into unconsciousness, but he stubbornly grit his teeth together and let them drag him back above ground. _

_He wasn't entirely surprised that Snape was waiting for them. The older man glanced briefly at Regulus before turning to Moody. "We need to move quickly. I've managed to confuse the schedules, but that won't last long."_

_The three other men nodded. Regulus swallowed thickly. "Thank you, Severus."_

_Snape turned his black eyes on Regulus, his face stoic. "Don't thank me yet."_

_He turned on his heel and stalked down the corridor, his black robes billowing out behind him. The others quickly followed, and Regulus heard his brother mutter, "Dramatic bastard."_

_Some things never changed, it seemed. _

_The escape was relatively without incident. There were some close calls as they snuck through what Regulus recognized to be an old Lestrange manor, but everything fell apart when they were almost out the door. _

_Suffering from major blood loss and other injuries kept Regulus from remembering every detail, but he could recall the jet of green light flying towards his chest. He could remember the moment he realized that there was no way he could move in time in his present condition. _

_With perfect clarity, he could see Remus jumping in front of it. Could see him drop to the ground._

_Most clearly of all, though, was Sirius' scream just before they Disapparated and everything went black._

* * *

Gasping, Regulus shot up in bed, turned over, and vomited onto the floor. He shivered, freezing despite the heat of the room. He'd had the same nightmare every night since arriving at Grimmauld Place, but it never grew any less terrifying.

Regulus dropped his head into his hands and tried to stop shaking.

"Erm. Regulus?"

The man in question jumped, his heart leaping into his throat. He looked up to see a figure in the doorway, which he belatedly identified as James Potter. He said nothing, waiting for James to either continue or leave.

He continued. "I heard you wake up in the hall… are you all right?"

Regulus reached for his wand on the bedside table and inconspicuously vanished the mess he'd made on the floor. "Nightmare," he managed.

To his surprise, James stepped into the room and lit his wand tip. "Everyone's having those," the older man said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Water?"

Regulus barely knew James, but he'd played a large part in comforting Sirius, so Regulus assumed him to be relatively trustworthy. "Please."

James magically summoned and filled a glass, handing it over without comment. Regulus drank slowly, relishing the cold as it slid down his irritated throat. He eyed James warily, unsure why his brother's friend had decided to stay. "You can go back to sleep now."

"Can't," James admitted. He looked lost. "I've been up for hours. The house is too big without him… too quiet."

Regulus didn't have to ask who he meant. James ran a hand through his hair and carried on.

"Sirius just managed to nod off, Harry will probably be up in a bit, you're unwell… There really isn't any point in trying, honestly."

Regulus' breathing was ragged. Guilt was overtaking him, as deadly and disgusting as a disease. "I didn't mean for him to… I never dreamed he'd…"

James turned those hazel eyes on him incredulously. "Who the hell said it was your fault?"

Regulus could only stare at him. "It should have been me."

Before James could refute that—which was exactly what his expression suggested he'd do—Sirius hurried inside.

"James, you should be sleeping. You too, Regulus."

James frowned. "I wanted to give you the chance to."

"No, no—I'm not leaving you to watch that bloody Horcrux business on your own. It makes messes of things." Sirius' gaze dropped to his shoes. Painful memories seemed to be threatening to overwhelm him, so he looked desperately at James. "How's Harry holding up?"

James' face tightened. "He's not. You should talk to him… He needs more than just his dad's words. He needs to understand that just because the prophecy is about him doesn't make this his fault."

Sirius' head snapped up as concern flooded his features. "He thinks that?"

James shrugged. "Reckon so. He doesn't tell me anything anymore. He'll listen to you; he always has."

Regulus couldn't breathe. He hated that they were discussing Remus' death and its consequences right in front of him, hated that he felt so guilty about the demise of someone he barely knew, hated that they could stand to look at him, because he knew how to deal with their hatred, but not their forgiveness. And though he'd never admit it, he hated that Sirius seemed so much more invested in the well-being of his godson than he had in his brother nearly twenty years ago.

He, very foolishly, was suddenly desperate to get back on familiar ground, and he knew just how to do it. He'd once listened to Sirius blindly, too. "Gotten braver, then, have you? No more running away from your problems?"

Both brothers knew what he was referring to; it had to be addressed at some point.

Sirius turned to him, his eyes flashing. "You're the one who said you wanted me to change."

Regulus looked away. "When I told you to 'change,'" he whispered harshly, "I didn't mean for you to leave me behind!"

"I had to protect myself!"

"Yes, I know." Regulus balled his hands into fists. "You ran away to protect yourself. Nowhere to go this time, so how are you going to protect yourself when your godson finally realizes what a big coward—"

"That's enough." James' voice was deathly quiet. "Both of you, that's enough. There's a lot of history to hash out, I get it, but you'll do that in the morning when you can think clearly. And you'll leave my son out of it."

The Black brothers fell silent. Regulus could have kicked himself; he didn't want his brother to hate him, but the pity was strange. He didn't like to be unsure of how to handle a situation.

He really was his own undoing. He had to fix this. Too many things were already broken.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Sirius." His grip was tight on the water glass. "I shouldn't have said those things, I just… I'm not used to being back here. Or with people."

A tense moment passed, and then tiny smile lifted the corner of Sirius' mouth. "I'm sorry too." He sounded exhausted, and Regulus wondered if he was tired of all the heartache, too. He walked back towards the door. "Try to get some sleep; I'll do the same."

He left, leaving James alone with Regulus. The older man seemed mildly surprised.

"I've never seen him calm down so quickly."

Regulus cleared his throat. "Emotional upheaval. It does strange things to a person."

"Perhaps." But he was looking at Regulus with a raised brow, as though Regulus was missing something fairly obvious.

Unsettled by the idea, Regulus cleared his throat. "Why... why are you being kind to me?"

James seemed surprised. "Why shouldn't I be?"

Regulus stared at him. He'd done some awful things; everyone in the house knew it. There were some mistakes he couldn't atone for. And James must have understood what he was thinking, because he ran his hand through his hair and shrugged slightly.

"Everyone deserves a second chance," he said quietly. "Believe me, I'd know. I was never a saint myself. And anyway... the Horcrux information..." James' hazel eyes latched into Regulus, completely solemn. "If we can destroy those Horcruxes, then you've given my son a fighting chance."

Regulus' mouth went dry. He didn't know what to say—didn't know if there was anything he _could_ say. The two men stared at each other for a few beats. They didn't speak, they didn't move. All they did was look. Eventually, James cleared his throat, breaking the spell. He reached back to take the water glass with a muttered excuse to leave, and as he did so, the sleeve of his shirt fell back, revealing a black soulmark identical to Regulus' own.

Regulus tried very hard not to react, but James seemed to notice his sudden stiffness. He didn't mention it though, for which Regulus was grateful.

Long after James left the room, Regulus laid awake in bed, the crown soulmark burned into his mind's eye. He had to do something about the soulmark, he realized. There could be no more missed opportunities.

He'd wasted plenty of moments already.

* * *

The next morning, Harry crept downstairs. He'd been subdued ever since Remus' death. The funeral would be that day, and Harry dreaded having to attend. He planned to make himself some tea—Remus' favorite blend—and try to eat something beforehand.

Then he heard voices coming from the kitchen, and he stopped by the staircase.

"You're saying that the Malfoys own Voldemort's old diary?"

That voice was Sirius', and he sounded understandably skeptical. Harry crept closer to the door in order to hear better.

"Yes, though they hadn't realized what it was, exactly. When I spoke to Lucius' about what I was looking for, he brought it to me. With Kreacher here, we can destroy the last two Horcruxes."

That was Regulus, with whom Harry hadn't yet spoken much. He didn't know what a Horcrux was either, and was slightly irritated with his father for failing to fill him in; it sounded important.

"What can we destroy it with?" James' voice, that time.

"The sword of Gryffindor; I have it with me." Regulus again. "The Dark Lord hadn't been able to recover it; it was simple enough work to get into Hogwarts with my grandfather's portrait on my side. He helped locate both the sword and the diadem, which was another Horcrux."

"Never would have thought it of him. He always hated me."

"You hated him, Sirius."

"Besides the point."

Harry held back a snigger and focused once more on the conversation in the kitchen. A chair had scraped back; someone had stood up.

"So we only have to pierce the cup and the diary, and then… then what?" James sounded confused. "Will he die?"

"No. He'll be mortal, making it possible to kill him."

There was a beat of silence before James spoke again. "Possible for Harry to kill him, you mean."

There was another tense pause. "I… I've heard the prophecy, yes."

Harry decided that it was as good a time as any to make his presence known. He quickly opened the door before they could think of that final battle, trying for a smile.

"Morning Dad, Sirius, Regulus. Tea?"

The three men looked over at him, startled. James found his voice first.

"Er, thanks, Harry. We'll all take a cup."

Harry nodded and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, then grabbed some mugs. Out of habit, he grabbed Remus' favorite; he blinked at it, then put it back quietly. He wasn't quite ready for that yet.

As the kettle was boiling, Harry stole a glance at the adults at the table. Sirius had picked up a newspaper and was attempting the crossword—no surprise there. James and Regulus seemed to be trying to figure out what to do with themselves.

But then Regulus waited until he'd caught James' eye, and he lifted the sleeve of his robe just enough to reveal his soulmark.

James seemed to choke on his tongue.

Harry stifled a laugh as he turned back to the tea. He knew all about his father's new soulmark—he'd eavesdropped on the conversation his father had had with Remus, too. And, like Remus, what he wanted was for his father to be happy.

Harry crossed the room and handed his father a cup, then leaned down to whisper in the man's ear. "Go for it, Dad."

James seemed to flounder for a bit before his eyes landed on a flustered Regulus, who'd heard. He smirked.

"You might regret saying that soon, Harry."

Even if he did, Harry decided, it would be worth it. His eyes landed on the window. Rain was beginning to pour down, perhaps mourning their great loss, perhaps wiping away the past. Remus, he thought, would approve of their new beginnings.

And while there was a war that still had to be fought, Harry found himself believing in a brighter future.

**A/N: **

**WC: Assorted Appreciation: 10. Miracle on 34th Street — Write about believing in someone or something**

**WC: Disney Challenge: D1. "Someday you might thank me for this."**

**WC: Trope of the Month: 7. (word) cold**

**WC: Space: 4. (genre) angst**

**WC: Book Club: Mr. Sir — (action) writhing in pain, (color) dark purple, (trait) cruel**

**WC: Showtime: 9. (word) bittersweet**

**WC: Amber's Attic: 2. Write about something or someone that is constantly changing**

**WC: Sophie's Shelf: S1. cuddling in bed because one half of the pairing is afraid of something BONUS**

**WC: Press Play: 12. (situation) borrowing a partner's clothes**

**WC: Liza's Loves: 8. "Beautiful **_**and**_ **brilliant!"**

**WC: Angel's Archives: 14. (drink) firewhiskey**

**WC: Scamander's Case: 3. "[Pronoun]'s too good for you."**

**WC: Bex's Basement: 3. "I really hate that man."**

**WC: Film Festival: 24. (dialogue) "You didn't bring me along for my charming personality."**

**WC: Marvel Appreciation: 5. (plot point) write about being held captive**

**WC: Lyric Alley: 3. Another year over**

**Fortnightly: Resolutions: Harry Potter: write about someone with a terrible habit**

**Fortnightly: Blessed Yule: Write about a dark character turning light**

**Stickers: Rare: Nutcracker: Write about someone protective**

**Galleon: (emotion) hopeful**

**Winter Funfair: Eastern: Angel Tree: Regulus Black: (pairing) JamesRegulus, (emotion) surprised, (dialogue) "When I told you to 'change,' I didn't mean for you to leave me behind."**

**Northern Funfair: Do You Wanna Build A Snowman?: Step 4: (action) crying**

**Western Funfair: Paper Chains: JamesRegulus - (emotion) grief**

**365: 133. disease**

**Scavenger: 56. Write a fic for a member of Slytherin**

**Insane: 367. (action) being sick**


End file.
